Home To You Read Online Free PDF Page A

then, David was the one who wanted her to cook more sophisticated meals, and turned up his nose at casseroles, calling them peasant food. He bought her a subscription to
Bon Appétit
magazine for her birthday to encourage her transformation from Betty Crocker to Julia Child. She shook her head at the memory and wondered why she’d never noticed that he tried to turn her into someone she wasn’t.
    She reached into the cabinet and pulled out the cutting board; it was right where she’d left it the last time she’d been there.
    This wasn’t the first time she’d escaped.
    The hunting cabin was one of the private, family-only houses on the estate, like the lake house. She’d never known her dad to rent out either before.
    She peeled and cut half a dozen potatoes and looked around. The place did need a lot of work. Maybe her father only rented it in exchange for doing the heavy work he could no longer handle on his own. That would make sense. Her dad was still in good shape, but way too old to be scrambling around on roofs, especially midwinter. She laughed at his cheapness, knowing if she mentioned it, he’d blame it on his Scots-Irish upbringing. Sheset the potatoes to boil, gathered all the ingredients she needed, and then got down to the business of cooking.
    An hour and a half later, the cabin smelled like heaven, and Kendall felt more in control. Cooking always soothed her. She’d made a simple salad, the entrée was ready to come out of the oven, and the table was set. All she needed was for Jack to join her.
    She hadn’t heard a sound from him since he’d headed down the hall, and didn’t know if she should just let him be or wake him for dinner.
    She could leave a plate for him. He certainly didn’t need to feel obligated to entertain her, and vice versa. Still, she did feel obligated. This was his cabin, for as long as the lease lasted, and she had no business being here.
    Kendall tiptoed down the hall to use the bathroom, and was surprised to see he’d set her duffel bag on the queen bed in the master bedroom. She peeked in and found Jack asleep on a twin bed in the smaller room. His shoulders were so broad, he seemed to overflow the mattress, and his feet hung off the end.
    At first she thought he’d just given her the larger of the rooms to be gentlemanly, but it looked as if he’d been using the smaller room all along. Odd, that. His bags were tossed on the floor, clothes hung from the chair in the corner. The dresser was littered with papers, a laptop computer lay closed on the small writing desk, and what looked like a pile of laundry had been kicked into the corner.
    The shepherd’s pie needed to rest for twenty minutes before they could eat it, so she tiptoed back into the main room and stoked the fire. The cold night air added a chill to the cabin, and while the bedrooms and bathroom had small radiators, most of the heat came from the woodstove.
    She refilled the long-dry iron kettle kept on top of the stove to add some much-needed humidity to the air and prayed she’d remembered to pack her lotion. She could feel the moisture being sucked from her already dry skin.
    She checked her watch: it was half past six. Jack had been asleep for almost two hours, and dinner was definitely ready. From the contents of his refrigerator and the cans of soup, chili, and stew she saw in the trash, he had to be hungry for a home-cooked meal.
    “Jack?”
    She turned on the hall light and stood in his doorway, trying to decide if she should wake him.
    *
    Jax squinted against the light shining in his eyes. An angel stood silhouetted against the glow, her dark hair shining, but her face wasn’t clear. He really wished he could see her face.
    “Jack, dinner’s ready. Did you want to get up to eat?”
    No one ever called him Jack. The scent of something amazing brought him closer to consciousness, and his stomach growled. It was food, but nothing like the stuff he’d been eating lately.
    His head cleared enough